


Event

by Apetslife



Category: Popslash
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-03
Updated: 2012-02-03
Packaged: 2017-10-30 12:58:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/331977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apetslife/pseuds/Apetslife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My Three Day Eventing AU for Popslash.  Inspired by Wax Jism's Autumn Challenge, song was "Up Against The Wall."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Event

Event  
By Pet

There's a ripple of awareness through the crowd, and Justin's head snaps up. He's listening, waiting...yeah, he knows that stride. Even cadence, though it's sounding a little tired, dragging a little. He stands, shoves his way to the front of the small group by the veterinary booth, bucket of brushes in hand. Here they come.

It's always amazing to watch the horses come up that last little hill to the vet check. They're steaming and blowing hard, wet with sweat, laboring under the weight of a rider and the length of the cross-country course. And BIG, overwhelmingly so, like something out of the old stories that Joey likes to read. Maybe a little mythical. Justin likes to think that they understand that, that they put a little of the dramatic into it themselves, because Allegro comes up that hill at a dead run, hindquarters bunching under him, JC clinging like a limpet, and swearing, if Justin's reading his lips right. JC barely gets him pulled in at the gate, and Allegro slides to a trembling stop, hauled back onto his hocks by a hard hand on the reins. He keeps swearing as Justin rushes up.

"God DAMN this fucking horse, Jesus, can't get him moving for half the course, and all of a sudden he's pulling like a frieght train. Justin, check that fucking cavesson, I think it's loose. And where the hell's my water bottle? Here..." He leans down to adjust his stirrup, all thin lanky limbs, strangely graceful, but shaking a little with the sudden release of tension. He's set his stirrups too long again, and Justin tsk's against his teeth, and goes to the horse's head. JC blisters another oath, and snaps the stirrup leather back into place.

Justin ignores him, eyeing Allegro carefully as he moves around him, rubbing the mud off his legs with a quick hard hand, checking his tack, his feet, running a hand down to his chest to feel for heat. He's slimed by the Crisco they put on the horses to help them slide over the bigger jumps. Not too hot, thank God, JC would have a fit. He ducks down to check the breastplate, and feels "ah, SHIT" slobber slide down his temple as Allegro lips at his hair. Somewhere off to his right, Joey is laughing. Fucker. He shoves the big nose away from his head irritably.

"Justin, quit fucking around. Is he hot?"

"Nope, he's good. Maybe pace him a little for the next mile, he's blowing a little hard, but he's in good shape otherwise." He smacks the solid chestnut neck, ignoring the sweat-wet, and looks up at JC. JC's splattered with mud, everywhere but the ring around his eyes where his goggles were. It's wet as shit out there. "Careful at the number nine fence, I hear it's all chopped up. Muddy and real slick, especially on the landing side." He hands JC a towel for his face, uses another to wipe at boots and stirrups. He can hear the timer chanting "Three minutes, three."

JC nods, mopping at his face, resettling his helmet. They've got to get going. Three minutes, this is just brutal. Someone behind him is talking into another walkie-talkie, as the vet strolls up. Unhurried, thank God, maybe Allegro's heartrate will be down. He holds a bucket up to the horse's mouth, lets him have three swallows, no more. Watches carefully as the vet puts her stethoscope up next to the girth, listens, nods, steps back.

"Is he sound?"

"Yeah, as a bell."

"You're cleared, we've got another rider coming in."

JC nods, throws the towel at Justin, and pulls his goggles back down.

"Remember, fence nine-"

"Thank you, Timberlake, I think I know how to ride this fucking course." He knees the big gelding up to the timer's gate, holds him steady as Allegro, wanting to run, bunches up into a big ball of anticipation. Justin can see his hindquarters quiver, waiting for the bell. It rings, the tape drops, and horse and rider just *explode* out into the clear again. The scattered applause follows them out of sight, at a hard hand-gallop. He TOLD JC to pace him!

Justin sighs, grabs up his brushes and towels, and hauls his muddy self back to the grooms' area. Joey's standing there, and Ray, both smirking at him.

"Shut up," he mutters, as he grabs his folding chair and piles his gear onto it. "Lance is in next, so wipe that nasty grin off, Fatone." Joey gets an elbow in the ribs from Ray, and groans.

Justin should really go. He should. But he lingers, folding his towels...one minute, two, and here comes Lance, on a smallish grey mare, who looks like she's having a hard time of it, sweating and heaving. Lance is cursing too. Joey steps out, suddenly all calm professionalism, and Justin can almost see the relief in the mare when she drops her muzzle into his waiting hands. She sighs deep, and relaxes. Joey's hands are magic. He moves them over her, big wide palms making sweeps, feeling for heat and strain, and her skin shivers. She's a good mare, Justin knows, even though she's small and a little green. Joey does a great job with her. Lance is a good rider, too, so she'll be all right. Justin props his chin on his hands and watches. Lance looks like he was born on horseback, sitting easily and with perfect balance, relaxed all over his body except for the stream of nasty words coming from his mouth.

Joey's talking to the mare in a low murmur, ignoring Lance after handing him water and a towel. He picks up her feet, one by one, checks her bell boots and tack, gives her a quick rub under her cropped mane, and gets out of the way for the vet. She frowns at Lance, and asks him a few questions, then nods and waves them through.

Joey stands by the fence and watches as they break, at a more moderate pace. Lance has her collected and light in his hands, and isn't pushing her. They're not going to make great time on this one. Justin hopes the mare can make up for it in dressage, though he feels vaguely guilty about it. It's just that Joey's so thrilled when one of his babies does well. Justin likes watching him sparkle and shine with it.

Joey slops through the mud, back to Justin's side.

"You gotta ride to the finish?" He looks at Justin sideways. He's covered in mud, and Justin knows he doesn't look much better. He grins, and shrugs a shoulder at on of the little four-wheeled ATVs waiting.

"Groom express. Better than walkin'."

Joey snorts. "I do so love these posh events. C'mon, Jup. I don't know about you, but Lance will skin me alive if I'm not there when he comes in."

Justin looks at him, deliberately wide-eyed. "Why would Lance want to skin ME?"

"Don't be a smartass, Timberlake. Just get in the damn vehicle." But he's grinning through the mud, and Justin follows him as he moves away. The long-suffering event staffer takes one look at them and groans. Justin knows she's gonna be cleaning mud and horse-slobber off the inside of the little ATV tonight. Since he has two horses to care for, and one prissy overmoneyed employer, he can't bring himself to have much sympathy for her.

He's pretty sure that sitting this close to Joey is just making him muddier, but he doesn't care. Joey is warm and solid and smiling at him sideways. It's cool and a little raw out, with overcast grey skies that are constantly threatening rain. The trees they pass look bedraggled and pathetic, and he shivers a little as he imagines what it must be like out there on the course. Slippery, treacherous mud. Solid jumps, long stretches of wet grass, running to the sound of a heartbeat under the sad trees. Part of him wishes he was out there in the silence and the race and the pounding, punishing pace. The rest is glad that he's too tall, too heavy, too poor to be an event rider.

Joey slides an arm around his waist, and he realizes he's still shivering. He probably should have brought his jacket, but it's the only one he has and he doesn't want to wreck it. They're usually on the southern circuit, and he doesn't need it. He leans into Joey gratefully, and feels the first few drops of rain hit his bare arms.

"Ah, shit," Joey remarks without heat. "Rain's really gonna fuck this up fierce."

Justin nods, sighs, and straightens up. They're close to the finish now, the ATV bumping over ruts in the road, and it wouldn't do to be seen snuggling with the enemy. Joey leaves his hand on Justin's waist, though, flat against the thin fabric of his t-shirt over his hip, and Justin's reminded yet again that Joey doesn't give a shit about much but his babies. And maybe Justin himself, though he's never really been sure about that either. But Joey's hand is warm and heavy and comforting, and he's not going to brush it off, no matter who sees. He mourns the loss a little, when they have to jump out to their places in the line.

***

After the event, when the rider has gone off to drink hot coffee and nurse aches and pains, after the scores are in and the results are tallied, that's when the groom's work begins. Justin takes Allegro in hand as soon as he crosses the finish line, looping the reins over his head and walking him until he stops sucking in air like a bellows. He checks for heat, and walks some more. It's too cold and windy outside, so he takes him into the covered arena, and joins the crowd of other grooms. Somewhere, some moron lets a stallion get too close to a mare, and there's a squeal and thumping kicks and someone's blistering someone else's ears. Justin grins. He's really glad Al's a gelding.

"Yeah, you're a good boy, huh?" One red ear flops over at him as he walks at the horse's head. Allegro snorts and stops to scratch his face on his foreleg. "None of that crazy stallion shit for you, huh, big guy? You've got more brains than that." He slaps a solid shoulder, feels that the skin's cool now, and dry. "You did good today. Real good. All that's left now is stadium jumping and dressage. Walk in the park, baby, walk in the park." He stops to let another groom pass, leaving a respectful distance between the horses. He's been kicked before, and doesn't really care to repeat the experience. His legs are tired. His HEAD is tired. And he still has tack to clean, a horse to clean, himself to clean. JC is not paying him enough for this. At least he can stop walking now. He turns Al around and heads for the stalls. He hears Joey singing somewhere ahead as he cares for the mare, and he can't help but smile.

***

Joey's talking to Lance Bass about Belle as Justin hangs the last polished piece of leather in the tack trunk. His hands are cramping from rubbing the mud out of the straps, but everything's shining. It's almost two o' clock, and the rumble of Bass's low voice, and Joey's higher replies, are soothing. They're talking about fetlock strain, he thinks. He feels his eyes start to droop. Suddenly this hay bale is feeling very, very comfortable. He searches his mind for anything left undone. The horse is fed and resting. JC's gone to the hotel with his punk horse-hating boyfriend. Everything's clean, ready to go for tomorrow. He lets his muscles go one by one, starting with his toes and working up to his fingers.

He's startled out of almost-sleep by a hand on his shoulder, and peers up into warm brown eyes and an easy smile. Joey's much better looking without his mud mask, and Justin smiles sleepily back.

"C'mon, kiddo. Where's your bunk?" He hauls Justin up by one hand.

"oof." Justin lands against Joey, wraps his arms around his waist, and hangs his chin over one broad shoulder, lets Joey take his weight. Mmmm, warm Joey. "I'm s'posed to sleep in the trailer. Donwanna. S'cold."

"It's gonna get colder in here, later." Joey reaches up, runs a hand through Justin's curls. Justin snuffles happily in his ear, nuzzles his neck, and feels the shaking laughter before he hears it. "Damn, you're just like the ponies, comin' up to love all over me like that. Fine, fine. You can stay with me in the loft. You steal the blankets again, though, an' your ass'll be in that trailer so fast..." He trails off, because he and Justin both know it's an empty threat. A year of events, seeing each other maybe once a month. Sporadic calls and e-mails between, words with lots of silence behind them. Joey's not going to kick Justin out of bed for anything less dramatic than a structure fire. Justin hides his smile in Joey's throat, drops a kiss there, and lets Joey drag him up the stairs to the small warm loft that Lance was good enough to get for his groom. There's tack on the walls, and trunks shoved into the corners, but the cot has blankets.

He's too tired to participate when Joey strips his dirty shirt off and kicks it into the corner. The light from the little bare bulb isn't really flattering to either of them, he thinks, but hey, Joey's seen it all before, and he keeps coming back. He strokes down Justin's sides firmly, then up to his shoulders, his neck. Justin shakes, and thinks that Joey's horses are really lucky. Sore muscles relax, soothed by touch and warmth and the simmering heat that's starting in his belly. He stretches languidly, and watches Joey's eyes widen and go hot.

"Look at you, boy. God. Fucking beautiful." Justin preens a little and moves in, but is stopped by a hand on his bare chest. "No, don't move for a second. Stay right there. Let me see you up against the wall like that."

OK, a little kinky, but if Joey wants to look at him for a while he's not going to object. He's got goosebumps, actually, and arches his back just the littlest bit. Joey's just eating him up with his eyes; there's a foot of space between them, but Justin can feel the heat. Joey's always warm, and that's his first memory of them as a THEM, Joey finding him shivering outside a stall on a bitter night in Lake Placid, and just wrapping around him, not saying a word. He'd breathed in the scent of horses and saddlesoap and Joey, and felt big hands stroking his back and warm breath in his ear, and decided instantly that this was something he wanted more of. It had been a short chase, after that.

Joey moves, finally, into his space, eyes never leaving his face, and Justin presses his palms, his spine, back against the wall.

Joey yanks his own shirt over his head, and Justin's mouth goes dry. Joey throws bales of hay around like feathers, handles the hottest horses with casual ease, and still Justin sometimes forgets what he looks like under those baggy rugby shirts. Sometimes forgets the smooth slide of acres of golden skin over muscle and bone. Sometimes forgets about the heavy bulk of Joey's arms and chest, almost brutal strength completely tempered by the gentleness in his eyes. One more step and Joey's pressed up against him, and Justin moans lightly, deep in his throat, at the feel. It's been a long time, and Joey knows his patience is never good, and grins at him. Justin grins back, and loops long arms around Joey's neck, and leans in for his kiss.

Joey tastes like the straws he's been chewing since he quit smoking. For an instant Justin's mind wanders to the idea of Joey-the-horse, and he giggles. Then Joey's tongue sweeps into his mouth, and he's not thinking much of anything any more. Joey's hands are circling his waist, overlapping behind him, pulling him close and and closer until he can't tell where he ends and Joey begins. Joey's tasting him, taking his luxurious time, and Justin licks eagerly at his mouth, hungry for more. Joey's not a neat kisser, not tidy, not delicate; his kisses are wet and sloppy and a little wild, catching Justin's lower lip, his chin, moving up to his cheek and his nose, roaming his face like Joey's memorizing him by taste. He tilts his head back, and feels a hot mouth at his throat, sucking and biting lightly, and he can't stop the embarrassing little mewls he's making. His hands come up and twist in Joey's dark hair, holding him there, pressing him close. He craves the burn of Joey's beard on his skin, that tongue that's licking flat against his pulsepoint. Joey's hands feel huge on his back. He couldn't get away if he wanted to, and he doesn't, not at all. The wall is hard and cool against his back, Joey is hot and strong against his chest.

Joey likes to take things slow. Savor him, taste him all over, touch every inch of his body and kiss behind his touches. But, but, it's so late now, and dawn is so close, and he *wants*...

"Joe..." his voice is hoarse, Joey's licking his collarbone now, and it makes his thoughts all tangled, and "Joey, we've got...I mean...late...ooooooh..."

Joey chuckles against his skin. "Ask me about tomorrow. You know that I don't care at ALL. We've gone without sleep before." His tongue comes out for another slow lick, and Justin grabs at his hair again to stay upright.

"Gemmee in trouble again...Oh Jesus, Joey, do that again." His voice is gone. Joey's hands have finally come around, sliding between them, cupping the hardness between his legs. He's on fire, bucking his hips helplessly into that hold, letting them slam back into the wall behind him, jerking with every panted breath. Oh yeah, Joey, NOW.

Joey's teeth are bared now, and he looks almost feral, hair standing in spikes from Justin's frantic hands, beard a shadow against his paler skin. There's a flash of white as he leans in, following Justin back, and bites at his shoulder, then licks at the marks as Justin lets out a shout that's almost a howl. He's liquid now in Joey's hands, boneless and mindless with pleasure, and when Joey hunkers down and lifts him under his knees, up against his body, off the floor, he drops his mouth back onto Joey's and lets himself get lost in the dark wet warmth. Wraps his legs around Joey's waist, and feels unaccustomedly light and small.

Joey's moving, bearing him back towards the cot, Justin can feel the tension in his arms under his weight, the little stagger in the roll of his hips. Strain as he's lowered down onto his back, and the cot creaks with their combined weight. Joey's quick hands at his waist, and his jeans are open and he feels a draft on hot skin.

"That's my Jup...don't you know it's dangerous to go commando in a stable?" Joey slides a confident hand between his legs, swallows his gasp, keeps speaking into his mouth. "All kinds of dangerous things. Horses looking for treats." He squeezes. "Wouldn't want 'em thinking they'd found a carrot. Big carrot. Might bite it off."

"Oh..." Justin's moaning over and over now, and doesn't even have the brainpower to be embarrassed, though he knows Joey's looking smug. "You'd...be upset..."

Joey gives him a firm, stripping pull that has him biting his tongue and tossing his head back against the bed, and lets him go to work at his own jeans. "Damn right I would. That's mine, and no overenthusiastic stud's gonna take it away. Right?" He smirks up at Justin, already pushing his jeans down past his hips.

Justin takes advantage of his momentary freedom to wiggle out of his own jeans, though he has to work around Joey lying half on his thighs. He's not cold any more. In fact, his whole skin feels hot and tight and anxious, as he sprawls back, lying prone. Joey smiles at him, wide and white, and leans down to nuzzle at his stomach. He runs his hands through Joey's hair, feeling the slippery strands slide through his fingers, loving the softness and Joey's mouth leaving open-mouthed kisses on his belly.

"Right. Nobody but you." Justin's smiling all over his face at the acknowledgement of the giant unspoken thing between them, the thing that makes him search every event competitors list for one J.L. Bass.

"Good. Whose turn is it?"

"Mine!" Justin answers immediately, bouncing a little where he lies.

"Liar boy. You had the last turn!" He grabs and rolls so that Justin's lying sprawled on top of him, and smiles up at him. Justin licks his neck, it's just too tempting to resist, and Joey makes a hoarse choked sound.

"Did not. Remember, it was at Rolex. Behind the wash shed!"

"No, that was blow jobs. Don't try to work your revisionist history on me." Joey's still capable of speech. Justin thinks he should probably do something about that. He ducks down and takes a nipple into his mouth, sucks and nibbles, then does a little rolling himself.

"Blow jobs or not, you were on the bottom!" He sticks out a lower lip, looks at Joey through his lashes. "Come on. Pleeease?"

Joey giggles at him. "No! It'll wreck the whole system." He flips Justin onto him one more time, then sprawls out limp, hands and feet dangling off the bed. "Plus, you know, it's not like it's so HORRIBLE when it's not your turn."

Justin intensifies the pout. "How do you know?"

Joey smirks. "I've seen the faces you make. Come on." He moves his hips a little, inviting. "Might maybe wanna get going if we're going to sleep at all."

"Thought you didn't need sleep." Justin bows to the inevitable and settles his hips into the spread of Joey's thighs, feeling the rasp of hair against hypersensitive skin, Joey's knees bending up along his sides. Joey's dick is hard and hot against his belly, and he moves a little, rubbing up against it to see Joey twitch and gasp. "You got stuff?"

Joey's eyes are heavy and sleepy and deep caramel warm. He grabs lube from the duffel by the bedside, slaps it into Justin's hand, and hums a little in anticipation. Oh, Joey loves this. One finger, and Joey's eyes go wide and his mouth makes an "O" and his hands grab at the bedsheets. Justin plays a little, sliding his finger in and out, rubbing at the tight pucker, feeling Joey's thighs clench around him, relax, and clench tight again. He's so TIGHT. And burning inside, Justin's breath hitches. In again with two, stretching muscle, feeling Joey soften under him, open up, hands grabbing at Justin's shoulders now, scrabbling at his skin, and Joey's hum is almost a song now. He's twisting against the bed, looking for something more.

Justin's hands shake, more lube, slicking himself. He gets a hand under Joey's knee, feeling silk-soft skin there, and lifts Joey's hips up. Lines himself up, and nudges at Joey's body. He's staring into Joey's eyes, wanting to see, wanting to know that's Joey's feeling good. He looks pretty happy. Justin takes a deep breath, and pushes in.

Tight grasping hot, fluttering muscles around him, Joey moaning and bucking and *taking* it, pushing back at him, eager for more. Justin's panting, pushing, wanting to climb into that warm body and stay, in to the hilt. He slides out with a quick flex of hips, and then rocks forward, and his voice is blending with Joey's, and he hopes they aren't disturbing the horses below. God, Joey...he's propped on shaking arms, feeling nothing but the exquisite bursts of pleasure every time he moves, shivering up his spine and down into his thighs and he's got to make this good for Joe because he's not going to last long.

"Joey, Joey..." he can't remember any other words. "Joey. Joey." Joey's hands grab and pull him closer, yanking him tight against the big body, driving him even deeper, and he can't reach Joey's dick, can't take weight off his hands...

He speeds up. He can't help it. Slide out and SLAM back in, flashes of light behind his eyes, every nerve ending starting and firing between his legs. Joey's sucking in breath like he's been running, and he's suddenly tense, fingers digging deep into Justin's sides. His head's back, and Justin can't reach his mouth, but that's ok, because he can't think well enough to kiss. He's staring at the pulse point in Joey's throat and it's just *flying* and Joey's sparkling through the sweat-drops on his eyelashes. Beautiful.

Joey arches and yells and comes suddenly, taking Justin utterly by surprise, gorgeous as he shudders and pulses and finally falls back to the bed, Justin still inside, still moving. He's so close...prickles of heat in the big muscles of his thighs, in his belly, tightening as he pushes in and in and again, dropping his head to hang, feeling it come as a rush of pleasure that picks him up and flings him forward and his thoughts explode in a wave of light.

The best thing about Joey, Justin thinks sleepily when his brain's back online, is this. Joey's curled around him, feet tucked between his own, just resting his mouth against Justin's temple. Justin's warm and comfortable and so so tired, and he knows that everything's ok. Tomorrow they have to be up at dawn, working hard, back in competition. For now, the air smells like sex and hay and leather and horses. Familiar and sweet, like home. Justin breathes deep, and smiles.

[end]


End file.
